Juggalo Law

Posts by Juggalo Law

“Lane Dean, Jr., with his green rubber pinkie finger, sat at his Tingle table in his chalk’s row in the rotes group’s wiggle room and did two more returns, then another one, then flexed his buttocks and held to a count of ten and imagined a warm pretty beach with mellow surf, as instructed in orientation the previous month.”– David Foster Wallace

“The thing that makes ‘Dirty Jobs’ different is that it’s one of the few shows that portrays work in a way that doesn’t highlight the drudgery. Instead, it highlights the humor.”– Mike Rowe

Yesterday was like any other. I stared at my computer screen and tried to appear as if I were doing work. I went to the bathroom three times even though there was no there there. At one point, I was asked to wear a name tag. If there is any humor at all in what I do, it is of a type so dark and weird, it could only be appreciated in Germany. I graduated from a pretty good, very expensive law school and I was asked to wear a name tag yesterday. Yesterday was like any other.

I don’t know why the hell I whine like this. Like Cherry Valance said, it’s rough all over. And besides, everyone else is trying to get through their day, name tag or no. There was an old lady with five plastic bags next to her on the train yesterday morning. Each bag was filled with more plastic bags. And on and on. You want to know sadness, check out this old lady’s Matryoshka bags that keep her company throughout the day.

But you want to know who really has it bad? Minor league baseball players and Bengals cheerleaders.

Let’s talk employment lawsuits…

double red triangle arrows Continue reading “The Labor Law Origins Of The Infield Fly Rule”

Three years ago, the eminent civil rights historian Taylor Branch wrote a scathing essay in The Atlantic that compared college athletics to slavery. In that piece, he wrote that college sports carried with it “the unmistakeable whiff of the plantation.” Comparisons to slavery cannot be brought lightly, of course. This is not Kristallnacht after all.

Three years later, the plantation house still stands. As if we are taking a remedial class taught by Howard Zinn, we now arrive at organized labor. This week, it was reported that members of Northwestern University’s football team had filed a petition with the National Labor Relations Board in order to be recognized as a labor union. If successful, communism.

Whether you believe that college football players should be granted fifteen minute smoke breaks every four hours or not, I think it’s safe to say that we all fervently pray for the day that the NCAA perishes after a long, yet valiant, struggle with butt cancer. Because of that, there were very few outright denunciations of Northwestern University’s actions in the media this week. Still, let’s get a lay of the land, shall we?

Let’s talk Samuel Gompers. Let’s talk Hoffa. Let’s talk sports….

double red triangle arrows Continue reading “NCAAFL-CIOCraziness”

Drugs make people stupid. It’s not that they impair important mental faculties in those who ingest them. Rather, they make everyone who doesn’t do them freak the everloving fudge out about them. People will literally believe anything you have to say about drugs. Drugs are like satanism was in the 1980s or religion was in the every other decade: if you are confronted with some unexplained phenomenon, drugs will help you fill in the gaps of your embarrassing ignorance. This week, for instance, we learned that one baseball writer chose to leave Greg Maddux’s name off his Hall of Fame ballot. Why? Because steroids. Confronted with an admittedly complicated issue like steroids, the writer chose to go Simple Jack on the whole process. Drugs, man.

But the idiotic baseball writer isn’t the only one whose brain bananas were agog over drugs this week. This week, we were treated to a college player’s lame excuse and a football conference’s dumb rule. Also, OJ Simpson. And the always-fantastic handwritten musings of a pro se petitioner.

Let’s talk sports…

double red triangle arrows Continue reading “Big Ten Finds Ecstasy Not The Bestasy”

How’d you like that, lawyer? –Darrell Royal

If you’re an attorney, have gone to law school, or are going to law school, you have seen the deposition in which Joe Jamail threatens to knock some geriatric chemist’s dick in the dirt. It’s stunning not because it’s surprising but, rather, because it is exactly what you expect a trial lawyer from Texas to do. When I first watched it, I thought someone had dug up my grandfather’s body and awarded him a posthumous Juris Doctor. The only thing more impressive than Jamail’s language in that deposition was just how nonchalant he was about unfurling his homespun insults. That ain’t your g**d*mned job, fatboy.

Jamail, of course, is famous not only for being a foulmouthed credit to the human race, but also for being paid exorbitant sums of money for his lawyering. This website has spilled a good deal of cyber ink in detailing Jamail’s piles of filthy luchre. And why not!? While the rest of you go about scratching out your bonus-sniffing beta lives, Joe Jamail soars above all that. Love him or hate him, the man crushes you and I in every imaginable category, save wallflowery.

This week, Joe Jamail pumped the brakes on Mack Brown’s exit from Texas. So we get to talk about him. And sports.

Let’s talk sports, fatboy…

double red triangle arrows Continue reading “Joe Jamail And Texas Football”

The last time someone willingly entered New Jersey.

* New Jersey continues to mint lawyers despite terrible market conditions. Lat told me I should come up with a good Jersey joke. I said that was fairly well-worn territory and I would feel a bit like #498 at the Houston 500. Lat said, “            ” [Newark Star-Ledger]

* The Obama uncle we mentioned earlier this week? Obama’s roommate before Harvard Law. Why won’t Obama produce his rent deposit!? [CNN]

* The men who stole parts of the Porsche Paul Walker died in were arrested yesterday. They will be charged with felony grand theft, tampering with evidence, and living perhaps too fast… too curious? [TMZ]

* Regulators are having a tough time figuring out what to do with the burgeoning Bitcoin market. Numismatists are equally puzzled by this rarest of rare coin markets. [New York Times]

* Jos. A. Bank, the most prestigious clothier in the United States and/or Canada, has been subpoenaed by the Ohio Attorney General. If the Ohio AG deposes one executive, he gets to depose three additional executives for free. [Washington Post]

* A Q&A with Nelson Mandela’s lawyer. Very cool story, indeed, bro. [Al Jazeera America]

And as an added bonus, after the jump are pictures from last night’s ATL holiday party…

double red triangle arrows Continue reading “Morning Docket: 12.06.13″

They told me, if I could sit on the stage so nobody climbed over me, I could drink beer till the show was over.
Gimme Shelter

Hells Angels are the Kleenex of biker gangs. Sure, there are the Mongols, the Outlaws, the Warlocks, the Diablos, the Cool Ranch Doritos. But all of those gangs take up relatively little space in the collective imagination. And one of those gangs isn’t even a gang. It’s a corn chip!

Anyway, the Angels’ ubiquity in popular culture means that when anyone anywhere thinks of roving gangs of motorcycle-riding degenerates, they think of the Angels. Hunter Thompson, Altamont, Sonny Barger and the Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test placed the gang at the forefront of that fashion trend known as the 60s. And as Atticus Finch quipped, “Even bellbottoms need a lawyer.”

So it was that the New York Times banged out an extra-long feature on the gang and their litigious ways over the long weekend.

That last sentence was the closest I could get the words “gang” and “bang” together. Let’s see if I have better luck later in this post….

double red triangle arrows Continue reading “Hells Legal Guardian Angels”

Shortly after I was hired to write terrible Morning Docket entries for this website, I went to one of those ATL holiday shindigs in New York. Free booze and the chance to hobnob with the kind of people I actively shunned during law school was too great an opportunity to pass up. When I arrived at the bar, I scanned the room for my website superiors. I quickly spotted Lat, breakdancing in front of the jukebox and screaming lines from the movie Chairman of the Board. Perhaps I’ll introduce myself another day, I thought. Elie was a little harder to find. Is that him? What about him? He could be anyone, I said to myself. Trapped in a room of Elie clones.

I began to strike up conversations with everyone.

It wasn’t until the wee hours of the morning that I began chatting with a meek, retiring fellow. I had to lean in to hear his thoughts as he spoke in something barely above a whisper. Whenever I asked this man a question, his responses were peppered with equivocations like “Well, I don’t know” or “That’s complicated.” A hard man to pin down, this one. But the elegant subtlety of his opinions intrigued. Enraptured by this humble man’s quiet reserve, I was shocked when he apologized profusely for his poor etiquette and introduced himself. “I’m Elie Mystal.”

Naw, just playing. Yesterday, Elie sent me an email that began “Defend YOUR BOY now! And by “your boy,” I mean Alex Rodriguez.”

Okay…

double red triangle arrows Continue reading “Elie Emails Me Things: Alex Rodriguez Is A Weirdo”

For those too young to remember, allow me to explain. It wasn’t until Ryan White that Ronald Reagan even knew what AIDS was. The sick kid from Indiana prompted President Reagan to, in one of his famous fireside chats, declare war on the disease. That war was won two years later with an armistice signed in Paris by emissaries from both warring nations. Anyway, that’s why we have parades all the time now.

Fast forward, like, 70 years, and we arrive at last week. A larcenous little leukemia survivor stole our collective hearts with a day of make-believe so unbelievably rich, the Muppet Babies have considered filing a copyright lawsuit. The child, with a real name no one cares about and the fake name “Batkid,” was allowed to run around the entire city of San Francisco while denizens of that city (mostly homeless bums) pretended that he was a superhero. He rescued a damsel in distress, helped to arrest the Riddler, and finished the day off by murdering the Penguin in cold blood. JKJKJK. The Penguin plot line had something to do with the San Francisco Giants mascot.

Anyway, the sickly little scamp had a helluva day and made everyone feel like a million bucks. All because of pretend.

And no one pretended harder than the U.S. Attorney’s Office….

double red triangle arrows Continue reading “The Riddler And The Penguin Get Caught — Thanks To Batkid”

When I was 9 years old, I had a problem with showers. The problem was that I wasn’t taking them. For whatever reason, it fell to my father to explain the ripeness doctrine to his disgusting and smelly son. I remember the lecture going something like this:

When I was in the Marines, there was one guy who didn’t bathe. After weeks spent humping heavy packs from here to kingdom come, I probably don’t need to tell you how awful a man can get to smelling. We were all 18 and 19 and 20 and not one of us had impeccable hygiene. But the bare minimum we can ask of each other as men, son, is to bathe on a daily basis. What I guess I’m trying to say is that no man is an island. His actions have consequences and this man’s actions led to serious consequences, not the least of which was an odor redolent of hot garbage. Do you understand what I’m saying? Why you need to shower?

“So did that guy ever start showering?”

Sure. But first, we had to throw a blanket over his head and beat the #*$% out of him.

This week, Jonathan Martin attempted to become the heavyweight champion of bullying victims. In the process, macho culture, a sort of blithe racism, violence, workplace norms, and Harvard Law School were put on trial. In Japan, their endomorphs square off in a dohyō. Here, they square off via media leak, tweet, and scores of lawyers.

Let’s talk sports…

double red triangle arrows Continue reading “Jonathan Martin, Future Gunner”

Whenever the topic of financial profligacy arises, I like to remind the assembled audience of my own rectitude in such matters. Why, I didn’t get a credit card until my second year of law school. Until that point, I had no need for credit. And I still didn’t even after I got the card. A twelve-hundred dollar limit is what they gave me on account of my non-existent credit. But that was alright with me. What in the world would ever possess a person to spend more than a thousand dollars that they didn’t have on hand? Do you know how cheap eggs are? I mean, I know this sounds like quite the non sequitur, but do you know how cheap a carton of eggs is? You can get them for a dollar. Maybe a dollar and change. The only reason I bring this up is they are a tasty source of protein for next-to-no-money at all. And so I ask you, why in the world would you ever need to borrow an enormous sum of money? Why would you spend your money like some drunk, and likely ethnic, sailor on shore leave? Are you compensating for something? I beseech you, are you too good for eggs? No sir, I don’t think I’m better than you with your spendthrift waffle iron ways. I just think you must never have truly learned how to run a tight fiscal ship.

I owe several entities close to a quarter-million dollars because of a Northwestern legal education that led me to… well, this.

Let’s talk money.

Let’s talk sports…

double red triangle arrows Continue reading “Fiscally Weak But Boston Strong”

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